Voyagers

By Jacqueline Pouliot

A new historical lesbian romance from Jacqueline Pouliot!

This compelling take set on board a luxury ocean liner on the eve of World War II captures the first flush of love and the awakening of sexual desire!

Hot, erotic with BDSM elements, very romantic, this story is strongly satisfying.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jul 30, 2015
• ISBN: 9781326379575

Book preview

Voyagers

Voyagers

Jacqueline Pouliot

EPUB Edition

Copyright © 2015 Lulu Press

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-326-37957-5

CARMENICA DIAZ

writing as

JACQUELINE POULIOT

Originally published as MER D’AMOUR

Revised Edition published 2015.

Copyright © Carmenica Diaz 2006 - 2015

La Scala

The two women stepped from the sleek black car, shivering a little in the chilly wind and misty rain, islands in a sea of activity, their driver unloading the trunks and suitcases from the car.

Porters scurried back and forth, splashing through the puddles on the dock surface, taking the luggage and piling the trunks on a large wooden barrow they pulled up the gangplank to the waiting ocean liner.

Abby, wrapped in her woollen coat, hair jammed into a soft brown hat, calmly took in the scene while her friend, Millie chattered on.

The ocean liner towered over them in the rain, the large blue and white funnels almost vanishing into the mist, tricolour flags fluttering wildly in the relentless wind while sailors scurried over the decks like white ants.

The stream of passengers hurried through the gates and, leaning into the wind and rain, moved quickly, almost running, up the canvas walled gangway,  disappearing into the ship.

The day was grey and mournful. Rain driven almost vertically by the bitter wind. Even the puddles on the concrete were rippling from the persistent blustery weather.

The drive from London had been bitterly cold with rain constantly beating on the windshield, the slow wipers drumming a sad tune.

Autumn was here so quickly, Abby had thought as she watched the green countryside flash past the window. Sadly, Abby seemed unable to muster any excitement for the forthcoming voyage.

Millie, however, had chattered on for most of the journey. Cheerfully gossiping and joking, laughing uproariously.  The driver stoically ignored all her risqué asides and stared doggedly through the windscreen wipers at the road ahead. 

However, Millie did feel a little car-sick by the time they reached Winchester so they had broken the journey for a cup of tea and, even though it was still raining, a walk around the famous cathedral. Abby and Millie had walked around arm in arm while the driver stayed with the car and smoked a cigarette.  Everything seemed so grey somehow to Abby, even with the lush green grass, and she felt greyness had seeped deep into her very self, into her very soul.

The unnatural greyness was everywhere on this last August day of 1939.  It wasn’t just the unseasonable weather; all of England was gloomy, sure war with Germany was inevitable.

There had been that brief moment of false hope raised by Prime Minister Chamberlain, but now the realisation of the surety of war had sunk in. Most people anxiously and a little numbly waited for the conflict to begin. Perhaps almost wished it would start just so they could then wish it to be over. Daily, they discussed the events in Europe, devouring the newspapers morning and afternoon, trying to second-guess Chancellor Hitler’s next move and, perhaps, win the war before it really began. 

Abby had also noticed that people suddenly focussed on the little things in life. Each small part of their lives became important to preserve while they waited for the conflict to begin. Anxiously, they gazed across the Channel, perhaps imagining the large black cloud of Hitler's National Socialism that threatened to overcome the world.

For the last few weeks, Abby found a small and insular sadness had slipped inside her. She constantly felt a little melancholy, always sad but not completely understanding why.

Everyone around her, especially Millie, expected Abby to be happy and gay. A girl who is about to be married should be, they said, almost lecturing her, but she couldn’t find this expected joy. And when they spoke joyously of the wedding and how happy Abby should be, Abby managed a bleak smile and masked the nausea that came with any mention of the coming wedding.

Not understanding her sadness was frustrating, and it seemed to weigh even more heavily upon her, but Abby kept her feelings quite to herself. Instead, she forced herself to project a veneer of happiness, a shallow pretence, but no one, not even Millie, noticed what Abby was really feeling.

Abby tried to convince herself that it was the threat of war that caused her to feel so completely sad. Everyone was, after all, talking about it, but deep inside, intuitively, she knew it wasn’t the real reason. It was something else, and the fact she couldn’t identify the reason puzzled her all the more.

‘I think your father is the most gorgeous man, I really do, Abby,’ Millie said, continuing her conversation from the car without stopping for a breath, her eyes roving over the huge ocean liner, La Scala, moored at the wharf. ‘Fancy paying so I could go first class as well,’ Millie added, turning her shining and excited face to Abby. ‘It’s so kind of him.’

‘He is generous, I suppose,’ Abby murmured. 'Still, why wouldn’t father pay for you? You are my bridesmaid after all,’ Abby said, watching the porters in their orange raincoats push cargo barrows around the wharf. ‘And by the way, it’s referred to as ‘Cabin Class’, not ‘First Class’,’ she pedantically corrected Millie.

‘All right, Cabin Class, if you insist but he didn’t have to. I could have gone second class or even third class, whatever you wish to call them. Is there a baggage class?’ she asked innocently. ‘Seriously, your father is such a nice man, although he’s always got that sorrowful look. I suppose all artists have it, rather like a big puppy?’ she chattered on, keenly watching a group of sailors run past, dodging the rain.

A big puppy, Abby wondered silently. I don’t think father would like that description at all. Do I get my sadness from him?

Ever since her mother had died, Abigail could not recall her father smiling happily, not even once. 

Millie continued to bubble with her usual bright energy. ‘He even paid for me to stay at the Dorchester, that was really lovely, a real treat.’

It was the first time Millie had stayed at the Dorchester and she had been constantly sparkling in her excitement. Abby had stayed there once when her father had taken her there soon after the grand opening in April 1931, after they had returned from Vienna.

Abby’s mother had died the Christmas before and so Abby was trying so hard to be grown up, walking beside her father, his arm through hers as he showed his daughter the now famous ballroom. He had enthusiastically pointed out that the huge room had no pillars, an architectural miracle that had been completely lost on her while she shyly behaved as Abby imagined a woman should behave.

As he led her around she had self-consciously avoided her reflection in the mirrored walls, and even now as a young woman she still avoided her reflection in those elegant mirrors.

Millie had been more enthusiastic about the ballroom yesterday than Abby had been when she first saw it all those years ago. Gently touching the mirrored walls with their sparkling studs in wonderment, Millie had exclaimed that it was the most beautiful place she had ever seen, a place where she would love to hold her wedding reception someday.

Through all the years, Abby had always admired how Millie enthusiastically embraced life. Millie’s approach to everything had the eagerness of a small child. She had gusto and a passion while Abby evenly and steadfastly plodded down her carefully chosen path. To many, it seemed Abby had a fear of changing her mind once a decision was made, and her friends knew that once Abby had made a decision, she never deviated from it.

‘Look at that bloke up there,’ Millie said with her usual bright zeal, interrupting Abby’s thoughts and pointing up the gangway. They could make out a tall man in a white uniform greeting the passengers. ‘I love a uniform on a man,’ Millie smiled, and winked.

‘Do you think of anything other than men?’ Abby said, sounding more exasperated than she intended, but Millie was used to Abby’s ways so she chose to ignore the comment.

‘Unfortunately, I’m not about to be married like you. I’m still looking for my prince charming, although I’m beginning to think he’ll never show.  Not many handsome men on white horses in London, darling.’

‘You’ll find your prince charming, I know you’ll find him, or he’ll find you soon enough,’ Abby said quickly, trying to make amends for her tone.

‘I hope so,’ she said a little wistfully. ‘I’ve got the names of my children picked out already.’

‘Children? Millie, there’s no need to rush!’

Millie shook her head, ‘Yes there is, dear. A girl at my age, what else can I do? Now,’ she said, changing the subject and taking her friend’s hand. ‘Your last moments in England as a single woman, Abby. Any last important words or adventurous acts?’ Millie laughed at the thought of Abby doing anything adventurous.

‘I can just imagine the shocking story in The Times, front page.’ Millie adopted a deep and serious tone, her brow wrinkled as her round face adopted a serious expression. ‘On departing England for a new life in America, Miss Abigail Wilkins, daughter of the famous artist Howard Wilkins, was seen in the early hours of the morning walking bare foot along the deck after dancing all night with a handsome young lieutenant.' Returning to her usual voice, Millie teased, 'I think you would shock everyone terribly if you did something like that.’

Millie laughed and hugged Abby. ‘Anything wild you want to do, anybody you want to pull from the crowd and kiss passionately?’ she asked, beaming devilishly at Abby, who couldn’t help herself but smile back at Millie, Abby's best friend since boarding school. ‘No? Didn’t think so.’ Millie giggled. ‘Somehow, old girl, I can’t see you ever doing anything wild.’

‘There is a time and place for everything and I don’t believe there are lieutenants at sea.’ Abby said a little more primly than she wished, immediately hating the sound of her words, and Millie laughed.

‘Good old straight laced Abby.’ Millie smiled warmly and Abby returned the smile, admiring Millie's confident approach to life and her bright sense of humour.

Millie squeezed Abigail’s hand and her eyes drifted up to the gangway, fastening on the young man in his white uniform who was greeting the Cabin Class passengers. ‘Well, speaking of time, I think the time is exactly right for me to meet that handsome bloke up there, whatever he’s called, so let’s go.’

A gust of wind swirled through the two young women. They giggled self-consciously as they struggled to keep their coats and skirts down, scurrying up the gangway, their faces cold and red raw in the spitting rain.

Somewhere in the distance a tugboat sounded a deep and sombre tone as seagulls fluttered around them. Some seagulls perched on the handrail to watch the two women hurry up the slippery gangway to a new life, leaving the old one behind in grey England.

Greeting the dark haired and smiling young man in the tight white uniform, Millie smiled broadly and immediately began to tell him the reason for their voyage. As Millie chattered to him, describing the trip to New York, how Abby was to be married and how famous her father was, Abby’s mind started to drift and she turned to the rail to look back over Southampton through the wild wind and the rain.

The storm that blanketed the port seemed to be appropriate in these uncertain times; despite Prime Minister Chamberlain’s claims to the contrary, war was coming.

Abby’s father had written to her urgently, demanding she immigrate to America and to have her wedding there. She was to ignore her foolish dreams of a wedding in Europe. Of course, Abby gave in. She always gave in as it made life easier somehow. Her fiancé Richard, after all, was American but, still, Abby had wanted to have her wedding in Vienna, the city that was connected to her last memories of her mother. However, that was not to be.

Although she gave in as everyone expected, there was still a sharp pain in her heart when she thought of her lost plans to have the wedding in the city where her mother had died. Somehow, she felt her mother would have been there with her if she had the wedding in Vienna. In a way, Abby felt her mother would have seen her marry and in her heart, be a comforting part of the ceremony.

But that was now only a lost dream.

Deep in her heart, Abby sensed life was about to change.

Of course it would change dramatically when she became a married woman. Millie had often told her that being married would give her a new status, even a new importance, especially since Richard was so well off.

She had always shrugged as Millie continued to chatter. Abby was about to become a married woman! In Millie's eyes, a married woman was the ultimate and perhaps the only goal for girls, but Abby was strangely ambivalent.

Was she really going to be married? It still seemed to be unbelievable. Abby removed her glove and stared at the engagement ring on her finger, wondering what married life was going to be like, and why the coming wedding didn’t excite her at all. It was the logical choice to marry Richard. It all seemed to be so clear, so well planned and rational, even logical. Still, a part of her wondered and dreamed just a little of a different and, perhaps, impractical life.

Deep inside her, creative urges had once bubbled but being the daughter of a famous artist was not easy. Nothing she could create in art would be judged fairly. In the eyes of critics, Abby knew she would not only be just a woman but also the daughter of Howard Wilkins.

But there was more. Life was going to change for everyone. Since the Great Depression, life had begun to change for the better once again, and people enjoyed a style of life that was now under threat.  Abby believed the world would never be the same again. The old ways were leaving, a cold and evil wind was coming to tear the world apart, forcing change, and nothing would ever be the same again.

There were times when Abby was confused. Of course, she did not reveal her anxiety to anyone, especially Millie.

Abby's mother had always told her only daughter to listen to her heart! Abby had always smiled at that and silently dismissed the urging for its impracticality. Life should be rational, as Richard always said. Organised and managed well.

She turned to see Millie’s glowing face, obviously laughing at some small joke the sailor had made and Abby realised that Millie was going to enjoy the wedding, the whole ceremony and excitement much more than Abby ever would.

‘Welcome Signorina Wilkins,’ the officer said to Abby with a little bow but he was still smiling at Millie.

It appears, Abby thought, Millie has made yet another conquest, she plays the femme fatale so well.

'And welcome to you as well, Signorina Johnson.’ The smile broadened at Millie who simpered up at him. ‘I’m sure you’ll enjoy your voyage with the La Scala. Mi dispiace, but it could be a little rough at sea. Does the sea sickness bother you?’

Abby haughtily shook her head a little irritably at the overdone welcome. ‘No, I’ve been to sea before and I was perfectly all right, thank you.’

‘Oooh,’ Millie said, fluttering her eyelids up at the man and Abby wanted to pinch her arm to make her stop. ‘I’m not sure, I’ve never been to sea and I felt a little queasy in the car. If I do become ill, what do you suggest?’

He adopted a serious tone. ‘The medical staff will assist with prescriptions for medicine. I suggest you get a little before we depart, it is best to take them, I believe, before the sickness begins.’

Millie looked a little disappointed at the practical advice and Abby couldn’t help smiling a little. ‘Sounds like good advice, Millie,’ she said innocently and Millie glared at her. ‘We should call as soon as we get to our cabin.’

‘But if they don’t speak English, who will translate for me?’ Millie said, turning back to the young officer, fluttering up at the young man who appeared to consider the question seriously.

‘There will be no cause for concern, Signorina, the doctor is English.’

Abby stifled a laugh and smiled at the young man. ‘How fortunate, Millie,’ she said ironically and smiled at the young man. ‘Now, where is our cabin?’

‘All Cabin Class suites are on the Lido deck Signorina, and Giovanni will show you there. Please, have a pleasant voyage on La Scala.’

Giovanni, a dark man in another sparkling white uniform and a huge white smile materialised at the mention of his name and led them to their cabin.

Millie was delighted as she excitedly inspected the small room after peeling her coat off. ‘I can’t believe this,’ she squealed as Abby quietly closed the door behind Giovanni. ‘This is gorgeous!’

‘I can’t believe how you threw yourself at that sailor,’ Abby said, dropping her coat on one of the beds, instantly claiming it as if they were still in school.

‘He was rather gorgeous too.’ Millie fell back onto the other bed. ‘Abby, if you think I’m going to play the shy little school girl on this trip, you are cracked! Just think, eight wonderful days at sea surrounded by handsome Italian men in tight white uniforms! And I’m in first class, sorry, Cabin Class! I am in heaven,’ she declared dramatically, spreading her arms and laying back and kicking her legs in the air.

Abby laughed and started to unpack as she inspected the small bottles of toiletries and bath salts in the bathroom.

‘A real bath,’ Millie cried, pulling the shower curtains back.

Abby hung her cocktail dresses and started putting underwear into drawers as Millie wandered through the sitting room.

‘Flowers! Champagne!’ she squealed. ‘We have champagne! Maybe that officer sent it up?’ she said hopefully. ‘It’s real French champagne!’

‘They leave champagne for all Cabin Class passengers,’ Abby said, examining the flowers. ‘They’re from Richard,’ she said, reading the card. ‘Abby, waiting to see you. Love Richard. How nice,’ she said coolly, pushing the card into the envelope and then went back to folding her slips in order.

‘Abby, you’re such a romantic,’ Millie said dryly as she popped the champagne cork and the wine fizzed into the glasses. ‘And I can’t believe you actually fold your underwear, you are so serious about everything. I can just see you on your honeymoon night folding underwear before you go to bed. Richard will be so pleased. Champagne?’

Millie was smiling as she offered Abby a glass but Abby shook her head.

‘Not now. Are you going to unpack? We will be leaving soon.’

‘Maybe,’ Millie said, wandering idly around the cabin. ‘What’s this?’

‘I don’t know. It appears to be a button, possibly to call the steward?’

‘Let’s see.’ She pressed the button and they waited but there wasn’t a sound. ‘Well, that’s amazingly useful,’ Millie giggled as she sipped from the champagne glass but stopped when there was a soft tap on the door before it opened.

‘Signorina rang?’ Giovanni asked, his head around the door, teeth glowing.

‘Yes, we did,’ Millie said. ‘I need you to unpack my clothes. Just put them away, will you?’

‘Of course, Signorina’ he said, bowing slightly.

‘We’re going up to watch the boat leave,’ Millie said, draining her glass and scooping up their coats. ‘Thank you,’ she added as, hiding a smile she took Abby by the arm, dragging her through the door with a cheery wave to Giovanni.

‘Are you really going to let him unpack your clothes?’ Abby whispered as the two women walked quickly down the passage.

‘Why not? I’m sure he’s seen women’s underwear before. Let’s get up there before the good ones are taken.’

‘Good ones?’ Abby asked, puzzled.

‘Men, dear, men! I wonder if they brought any white horses on board?’ she laughed, releasing Abby's arm to lead the way up the stairs to the deck. Abby hurried after Millie, excitement running through the ship as the preparations to leave